As if his stint as the legendary curator
of eighties tape label/mega-conglomerate
Sound of Pig wasn't enough, Al Margolis' daring experimental
works happen to be a rare breath of fresh ether on the avant-garde
music scene; from the small section of work I have sampled, I have
found his exploits to be consistently more fascinating and
stylistically novel than the output of many other
underground sound adventurers.

This self-justifying reissue comes by
way of the fantastic Monochrome Vision label, and unearths what was
originally a 150-copy tape put out by the hopelessly obscure
Medicinal Tapes imprint based out of Pantin, France. Four additional
artifacts are also thrown in – a spattering of comp appearances as
well as “Extremely Dangerous,” whose history is forgotten even to
Margolis himself.

Radio Slaves is almost entirely
the result of a precious piece of equipment known as the Casio SK-1,
a 1985 sampler with enough memory only for very short loops.
Obviously the object of much fascination by Margolis at the time, it
is responsible for a whole world of sound on this substantial
record, contriving surprising sonic permutations and repeating them
bountifully. Menacing “Fish Tales from the Bible,” for example,
combines the repeated utterance of “his holiness,” a creepy chanted
tidbit, and a sinister synth line to utterly demonic effect. As is
the case with the rest of the record, the joy of the entire affair
derives from the skill with which Margolis selects and implements
disparate sounds and puts them together to create a cohesive piece.
Other tracks take different approaches entirely, particular songs
dabbling in eerie prettiness (“It's Your Funeral,” “Radio Slaves”)
and loose romping-around (“Jungle Horn,” “Brain Dead”). The
enterprise rarely wades into mediocrity (“Once Upon a Time”).

One composition is worthy of special
note, as it is significantly different from its discmates. “Called
on God's Carpet” is notable not just because it's about five times
as long as the album's average track length, but also because it
eschews the loopy sampler approach for a more expansive experimental
adventure. Garbled, incomprehensible speech is laid over a bed of
haunting organ drones amid a dark ambience that seems to rise up and
incinerate the track, rendering human voices
grimly distorted,
and suffocating the track in swelling noise. Like the rest of
Radio Slaves, it's potent, evocative stuff, and well worth a
listen.

How did the original Radio Slaves
come to be? How did you get hooked up to France's Medicinal Tapes?

Well I recorded the material - I had
gotten a little Casio SK-1 sampler and used that as the basis
for all but one piece on the original
recording. For some reason whenever I got a new piece of technology
– if you want to call it that – I would use that as the source or
method of working. Seems to have been a pattern over the years. And
to be honest I cannot remember how I hooked up with Medicinal Tapes.
We were undoubtedly in contact through tape trading and I am
guessing they asked for something to release. I tended to not overly
"shop" my work around (and I still do not). I mean, I do a bit, but
not overly aggressively – kind of like, "Are you interested in a
recording?"

Whatever happened to Medicinal
Tapes, for that matter?

I have no idea. My memory is that after
the release we did not have much (any?)
contact – but that could also be faulty memory.

Why the title Radio Slaves?

Well, I have usually listened to rock,
pop, etc. – radio – from youth, but also being involved in
non-commercial music and non-music, I mean shit – commercial radio
is what it is and in all reality it enslaves you to the same songs
and the beat and to serious consumerism. So, to a certain extent
when you listen to the radio – and its no longer just music – you do
become a "slave." (Probably better sounding than Radio Ensnared as a
title.)

Radio Slaves has seen a fair
amount of interest since its miniscule release in 1986. Generator
Sound Art re-released it as a cdr years ago, and now there's this
Monochrome Vision reissue. Why all the attention?

Well, as I mentioned, I made the tape
and then Medicinal released it. Gen Ken Montgomery of
Generator (and by the way Pogus will be releasing a CD of his soon)
wanted to release something of mine as part of his archival section
of Generator, and apparently this is his favourite
recording of mine. If you listen to the short tracks and loops
involved I think it makes sense that Ken digs this one. And when
Dimitry Vasilyev of Monochrome Vision asked for something –
again keeping with his partial aesthetic of re-issuing a lot of 80's
cassette and electronic material – I actually sent him 3 or 4 tapes
of materials and he wanted this one... Plus, he asked about filling
it out with some other material. Beyond that I really am not sure
why it has been so "popular."

In addition to the
original Medicinal Tapes release, this
reissue also includes a few compilation appearances, the details of
which are vague even to you. Am I correct in assuming you have
massive stacks of archival material lining the walls of your home?
Just how much of your work do you own, and how often do you listen
to your older recordings? Is there a storehouse of unreleased
material waiting to be put out?

I could not find offhand the
compilations the additional material was on – mostly from Alain
Neffe's Insane Music label compilations. I think I eventually
ran across the tapes... I have stacks of cassettes from the days of
tape label running and trading. I was and have actually over the
years been fairly efficient at recording, meaning that I usually
manage to release my backlog, whether by self-releasing or finding
some home for it. And I think that that backlog has, on occasion,
worked out qualitatively as well, as it seems to weed out the
material that, in the end, is better not out there... So while on
one hand I really do not go back and listen to lots of older
material (though it is nice to hear when, say, making a copy for
someone), I do tend to listen a lot to unreleased material (most of
it newer) – just to see if it is standing the test of time while
waiting for a home for it. I usually have 3 or 4 CDs worth of
unreleased material sitting around – I would like to have it out
there but releasing too many If, Bwana CDs on Pogus at one
time is not what I want to do, both for artistic and financial
reasons. So there is not much "older" archival unreleased material
out there. I would like to get some of the older cassettes reissued,
but there is newer material awaiting release or being finished or
worked on.

In what context do you see Radio
Slaves being listened to? What sorts of images/feelings does it
evoke?

I don't really know. On one hand I
think it was partially a comment on 'world' music and its use of
samplings of music from all over the world to make new and
commercial music while "borrowing" other culture... While I have
used samples and loops for a long time, I early on tried to not use
others' work but sample myself or those I was working with
(usually). It's a weird pop record, also – probably the most readily
"beat" oriented work I have ever done (“Radio Slaves,” anyone?) –
and it's got some weird feel to it but not sure what it evokes. Kind
of quasi religious at times almost... but maybe not.